You Talk, I Listen
by 1seddiefan
Summary: Dean gets hungry so he goes to one of those opened 24/7 doughnut places. Trying to eat a doughnut in peace, he notices a teenage boy trying not to cry. Instead of leaving like he usually would've done, Dean instead has the teen tell him what's wrong. One-shot.


A/N: This idea came to me while I was on the bus going to school, when I started thinking about doughnut places being opened 24/7 and an upset fifteen year old boy. So…

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><p>It was a rule they set up; if one of them goes out of the hotel late, they should take a fully charged cell phone with them.<p>

Dean would've usually gone to a bar, but he was feeling a bit hungry and was craving a doughnut at three in the morning.

He put a jacket on and grabbed his shoes. He didn't give a flying fuck that he was going to a public place in his pajamas.

Dean grabbed his cell phone and a key card. He left the hotel room to go find that opened 24/7 doughnut place that they drove by on their way back from the arena.

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><p>He got two powered doughnuts from the place called Amazing Glaze. Dean thought it needed a new name as he looked at one of the napkins.<p>

Dean heard a sniffle and tried to ignore it. He heard it again and he looked up. He looked around noticing at least two couples chatting and a teenage boy. The teenager had his hands in his black hair. Dean noticed that there were orange streaks in there.

Dean looked and down at the two doughnuts. He heard another sniffle and he looked back at the boy.

_How are these people noticing that?_ Dean wondered, noticing as the couples didn't pay attention. _Great. I have to ask questions._

He looked at the boy, "Hey. Are you okay?"

The boy looked behind him. The boy's eyes locked on him and he arched an eyebrow at Dean. It would've made The Rock proud.

"Are you okay over there?" Dean asked, noticing that the boy has a black bandana on his right wrist and an orange bandana on his left wrist.

"Yeah." The boy replied, sounding pissed that he was interrupted from being emo or something.

"Fine. That'll be the last time I show concern for someone else." Dean snapped back and went to back to one of his powered doughnuts.

"No. I'm not fine." The boy replied, in a low voice. It was still loud enough for Dean to hear.

"What made you upset?" Dean asked and looked around. The two couples weren't paying attention. "How about you come over here, so I don't have to talk loudly?"

The teen seemed to think it over that or he was wondering why he's going to talk about his problems with a stranger who was wearing pajamas.

The teen got up and walked over to the table Dean is sitting at and sat down across from Dean.

"You talk, I listen." Dean said, recalling those words from a woman he talked to when he was going through his issues when he was fourteen.

"Where do I start?" The boy asked.

"Start whenever and when you're comfortable." Dean said, recalling those words from the same woman. He grabbed the uneaten doughnut and broke it in half. He put one half on the napkin and gave it to the boy.

"What's your name anyway?" The boy asked.

"Dean," he replied.

"Tyler," the teen replied and looked at the doughnut half.

Dean heard his cell phone vibrant. It was probably a text message from a very worried Seth or Roman that happened to wake up and saw that he was gone.

Dean resisted the urge to take his cell phone out and send a reply. He didn't want Tyler to feel like he didn't care or be rude by texting someone while trying to have a conversation with someone. Dean has been on the receiving end of that.

"It's my mom." Tyler finally replied.

Dean nodded; he has major issues with his own mother. So major, that he hasn't spoken to her in years. Dean didn't know if she was alive or dead.

"She just drives me up the walls." Tyler said.

Dean would've replied with, 'I know the feeling, man' but he was sure this kid didn't need any of his commentary.

"She calls me 'that kid' or 'him' or 'stupid', 'useless.'" Tyler said.

Dean nodded. He had been called those names many times and then there was some worse ones he was called.

"Then one time we were walking down an aisle of a store, she said 'don't mind him, his blond roots are showing.'" Tyler said and Dean's eyes went to Tyler's hair. "I'm not blond."

Dean nodded.

"I once had a broken arm. I was told I tripped and fell down the stairs. I know that she pushed me, so I decided to let her try to make me think I fell." Tyler said. "She once told me that I was actually born on the highway, because you know that joke, 'You must've been born on a highway because that's where the most accidents happen."

"Really?" Dean asked. He never heard that one before. Note the sarcasm.

"Yeah. I was actually born on the highway. It explains why my mom hates me, tells me that I'm an accident, and tells me to burn in Hell." Tyler said.

Dean felt his eye twitch, "No, it's not."

Tyler looked startled. "What?"

"That's no explanation for your mother hating you." Dean said. "Just because you were born on the highway? There are other kids out there that happen to be born on the highway and their parents love them."

"Oh." Tyler said, looking down.

"Yeah, I was born on the gas station floor. That's probably why I got discounts there." Dean said and shrugged.

Tyler shrugged. "My mom also tells me that everything's my fault. Every single thing. A glass random breaks, it's my fault. She also tells me that I'm a failure, I can't do anything right, what's wrong with me, and that she wished that I've never been born. It's not the worst thing she calls me either."

"What happened to your dad?" Dean asked. He wanted to bash his head into the wall for asking that.

Tyler rolled his eyes. "It was a one-night stand or some shit. The kids at school found out and now call my mom a slut. I'm like, 'I know. Stop pointing out the goddamn obvious. I live with her.'"

Dean understood that perfectly.

"They tell me to die or kill myself already. They hate me for some reason. I don't know why. They call me names." Tyler said. "Even my mom tells me to kill myself, so that I'll be less of a burden to her."

"Do you have any friends?" Dean asked.

"No." Tyler said. "I thought it about it, you know?"

Dean already knew the answer, but he didn't want to jump to conclusions. "Thought about what?"

"Killing myself." Tyler whispered.

Dean wanted to bash his head against the wall. He settled for sighing. "Do you want to give them the satisfaction?"

"What?" Tyler asked.

"Do you want to give them the satisfaction knowing that you killed yourself?" Dean asked, recalling those words too.

"No." Tyler said.

"Good. Remember that if you're on the metaphorical or literal ledge." Dean said. "Just tell yourself that they won't get the satisfaction of knowing that you killed yourself. I would say, 'never give up,' but that's obvious."

"That's cliché." Tyler pointed out.

Dean nodded, "Yeah, don't give them the satisfaction of killing yourself. Some may be guilty if you did, but most would be happy and regret nothing. Also, it's okay to cry. People say that it's a wimpy thing for men to do. But it's not wimpy, because real men cry."

"Okay." Tyler said.

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><p>"Where the hell were you?" Seth demanded, once Dean walked in the hotel room. "We've been texting you and you never bothered to even reply. Where the hell were you?"<p>

Dean didn't want to betray Tyler's trust by telling his friend's about it. "I was at that doughnut place that's open 24/7."

"Holy Os?" Roman asked.

"No, the other one." Dean replied.

"The Second Frosting?" Seth asked.

"No. Amazing Glaze." Dean replied. He briefly wondered what was up with all the religiously named doughnut places.

"Oh." Seth and Roman said together.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Besides, why would I go to a bar in pajamas? That would be so weird."

"So you went out to eat, but you couldn't reply to our texts?" Seth asked.

"Those were some really awesome doughnuts." Dean said, which wasn't a lie.

Roman and Seth were left to ponder about how awesome a doughnut can be if it caused Dean to never reply to a text.

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><p>AN: I got Amazing Glaze and Holy Os from iCarly. The Second Frosting is something I made up. It's a play on the Second Coming of Jesus. Yeah. I got bored.


End file.
